Three Scenes of Love
by truevindication
Summary: A writing prompt I found tucked away in an old, forgotten file. "Free write three scenes of love.  Any type: romantic, friendship, familial, etc. " Tiva
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Three Scenes of Love  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Tiva, friendship  
><strong>Summary<strong>: A writing prompt I found tucked away in an old, forgotten file. "Free write three scenes of love. (Any type: romantic, friendship, familial, etc.)"

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><p>A window painting could never looked as cliché as the day that put Anthony DiNozzo in such a good mood. The sun shone down brightly on him as he put on his dark tinted aviators. The breeze blew just light enough to fend away his thoughts of a jacket. Even the birds seemed to greet him as he walked into the stony building that housed his bullpen. The familiar <em>Ding! <em>of the elevator even seemed a little brighter.

"Good morning!" he tossed down his bags and looked up at his not-so-bright coworkers. He got more of grunts in response than actual words. "Why the long faces!"

"It's Monday," Abby said with a shrug as she walked towards him, timing her entrance perfectly. She tried to avoid the glares from McGee and Ziva as she smiled her greetings to the senior field agent. "Though I don't know why Timmy has the long face," she turned and faced him from the center of the room, "aren't you off for the next few days anyway?"

"Not for good reason." he replied with no tone in his voice and a deadpan expression, "chores, catching up on paperwork and showing my sister's new boyfriend around town… not exactly what I would call a fun-filled vacation." And with that he grabbed his own gear bag and headed for the elevator.

Tony turned his attention to the gloomy former Mossad agent. "And what's got your pants in a bunch?" He still said it with a slight smile. He lounged back in his chair, files only slightly noticed on his desk, staring at her waiting for a response. Abby walked up behind her and tried to look at her screen. Immediately Ziva exited any program that may have been open.

"Nothing," Ziva replied curtly and stood up and left.

Tony looked up at Abby with a quizzical look. "Family problems? Guy problems? Do I need to beat someone up?" She replied with a shrug.

"This one is a complete mystery to me," Abby took one last look around and wandered down to her lab, seemingly emerging only to say hellos and disappear back to her work.

Tony thought for a second and then headed for the elevator.

...

Ziva walked back to her desk with a scowl that seemed to be permanently stuck for a few days. She had only been gone for 10 minutes but the emptiness of the squad room after such a rare morning encounter with a cheerful DiNozzo left her skeptical. She walked back to her desk carefully as she rounded the corner and saw only Gibbs sitting at his desk, leafing through a thick file on his desk.

"Problem, Ziva?" he asked without raising his head from the papers in front of him.

"Where is everyone else?" She stood inbetween Tony's desk and her own, fearful that there maybe some prank awaiting her, no doubt it would be Tony's way to cheer her up.

"McGee took some days off and Tony is with Agent Anderson going over some cold case files." Again, there was nothing in his voice to hint there was anything more than daily routine, but still Ziva approached the rest of her steps to her desk with caution.

She sat and inspected her desk. In the middle sat a cup from the coffee shop down the street, markings noting it was her favorite tea blend scribbled on the side. Beside it lay a note, again scribbled but this time in Tony's boyish handwriting.

_Cheerful mornings aren't as bright if there's no one to share them with. Hope your day improves. -Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo_

She read the post-it note again, trying to find some hint of sarcasm, teasing or otherwise ill-will. She could find none. She raised the cup to her lips, touched at Tony's note, but even more his maturity to not pester her about what was wrong. She shook the feeling of guilt away, regretting doubting Tony's motives, and gently placed the cup back on her desk. She closed her email, her reports and the stressors of her morning. Enjoying the rest of her tea, she made a mental note to thank Tony for this. Not just the tea, but passing on the good will he had walked in with.

She smiled as she sipped her tea, letting her frustrations fade away.

On the back of the post-it, gone unnoticed was a hastily written note, one which Tony wasn't sure she would even see.  
><em>PS: Smile, Sweetcheeks, you never know who's day your smile may make.<em>

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><p><strong>AN: **Each chapter will be a stand alone story. Just my takes on different ways people express their care for someone. Hope everyone has a lovely day!


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Three Scenes of Love, Ch 2  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Tiva, friendship/jealousy  
><strong>Summary: <strong>The gang goes out to a bar and someone tries to make a move on Ziva. Well Tony just can't have that.  
><strong>Note:<strong> Still un-beta'd. I own nothing except the typos in this story. Enjoy.

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><p>The Steel Toe was not the typical hangout of choice. Tony had found it a few weeks back and sang it's praises, so tonight in their case-closing celebratory night out the Gibbs team wound up at a country bar.<p>

"Hey Liz!" he called out as soon as they walked in, "first rounds on me!" The red-head behind the bar gave him a large grin in acknowledgment as he led the group to an open table.

Liz was right behind them, rag in hand, wiping off the table as they sat, plopping down two bowls of peanuts in front of them as she did so.

"Aw, Tony, you do have friends!" He gave her a lop-sided grin. "About time, you come in lonely way too often."

Abby, Palmer, Ziva and Tim all looked at him quizzically, causing Tony to blush slightly, faltering with his words. "That's not true…" he defended with a forced laugh, "let's just move on, shall we?" He raised his eyebrows towards the bar to tell the bartender to drop it. "What do you guys think?" he asked, motioning to the bar itself, "not bad, huh?"

While it was cleaner, more well-lit and in general a better atmosphere than most country bars, it still seemed odd to everyone for Tony of all people to choose this place.

"I like it!" Abby was the first to chime in, "it's got character. And a little class. But not too much."

"It's comfortable," Tim added in agreement with Abby. "Didn't think it was your style though, Tony," he ribbed his senior partner lightly.

Just then the beers arrived and everyone started jumping from topic to topic.

Abby and Tim started talking about a concert that he had apparently promised to go with her at some point that he clearly forgot about. Ziva was talking to Palmer about his upcoming wedding, which he seemed all-together giddy and deathly afraid of. Tony was listening to both conversations, but mainly enjoying his beer after a long case. Liz was right, this had been his getaway bar, somewhere that he could come hide when he needed space for himself, away from the hectic pace of work, the loneliness of his apartment, and his general frustrations with where his life was. He glanced around the bar and saw some regulars sitting at the bar. There were a few girls milling around the juke box, giggling as they went through title selections.

Liz caught his eye and motioned him to the bar. He barely excused himself, leaving the four at the table to their own conversations.

"Is that her?" Liz asked with a wicked smile. "The one you're sitting next to, is that her?"

Tony looked around uncomfortably, checking over his shoulder as if his friends could hear their conversation.

"Yeah, that's the trouble maker." Liz laughed. "Name's Ziva. She's a firecracker."

"Well, yeah," the bartender had a hint of amusement in her voice, "from the stories you've shared she must be to get you so enthralled."

"Yeah, about that, let's just keep that kind of stuff between us, yeah?" Tony pleaded with his eyes. Since this had been his getaway bar his defenses were usually down around Liz. But the gang didn't need to know that.

"Oh, Tony, you talk as if she doesn't already know." Tony's brow furrowed. "Honey, she's already looked over here about five times since you walked away! She's got her eye on you, too!" He blushed at her matter-of-fact tone and shook his head slightly. "Whatever you say, but trust me- women know these things." She winked at him and walked to the end of the bar to help another patron.

"Hey man," a man Tony had never seen before walked up to him, beer in hand, "is that your lady friend over there?" He motioned to the table with his glass.

"I'm with them, yeah." The senior agent looked at this man quizzically. "Who's asking?"

"What 'bout that one on the end," he cocked his head slightly at Ziva, "she yours?" Seeing where this conversation was headed Tony shook his head.

"She's my partner. They're my coworkers." The man nodded thoughtfully, sipping his near-finished beer.

"So… she single?" Though Tony knew he should have let the man go ask her himself, and watch his subsequently get shot down, he didn't want some other guy walking up and intruding on their time. Hell, he didn't even want the guy looking at her.

"Depends."

"On?" The man looked confused, as if he expected this conversation to go a lot smoother than it was.

"Again, who's asking."

Back at the table Ziva couldn't help but continue to look over at Tony at the bar. He had moved on from talking to the bartender to an obviously drunk patron. When he first walked away from the table with an obvious intent on talking to the bartender Ziva felt her face get hot. She forced the feelings away but couldn't stop herself from glancing over again to see him giving Liz his 1,000-watt smile, his impish grin and just his undivided attention. She forced herself to focus on Jimmy's words, but felt herself losing interest fast. She just wanted Tony back at their table. Somehow the empty space next to her made her feel lonely, even with all her friends around her.

She looked once more and saw Tony's body language tense up. He stood straighter, his shoulders pulled back as if to try to make himself seem more threatening. She had assumed the man he was talking to was a regular he knew from his visits here before, but it was slowly becoming clear that this conversation was going to be a problem.

"Ay," the drunk man said innocently, "I'm just askin' if I should even bother."

"Well then the short answer is no."

"If she ain't your lady, why don't you think I got a chance?" Tony looked the man up and down. He had torn jeans, obviously a daily worn pair. His t-shirt had a Jon Deere logo, faded half to none, with holes in the armpits. He shook his head almost sadly with a smile playing on his face. He laughed at himself for almost letting this guy pose a threat to him.

"Trust me, she's not your type."

"I'm not tryin' to be the date type," the man laughed right back at Tony, "As long as I'm the night type." The man sipped his beer some more, eyeing Tony over the top of the glass. Tony's smiled disappeared.

"You what." There was no question mark. Just hearing someone make a statement about Ziva flipped his mood real quick.

"Y'know," the man motioned at the table once more. "She looks good." His eyes clearly looked her up and down. "Looks like she'd be good if you know what I mean. Exotic, erotic and freaky…" He wiggled his eyebrows and Tony chuckled along with the man, looking at Liz, almost as if to apologize.

"Yeah, no." His chuckled stopped immediately. "Don't even think about it." His jaw was clenched and his voice stern.

The man took on Tony's stare and is if challenged he drank the last of his beer quickly, slamming the glass on the bar top. Abby looked over at the bar at the sound of the glass slam. "What is Tony doing?" she asked the question innocently enough, and that gave everyone at the table just enough time to turn and see what was about to happen next.

"Are you telling me no because she told you no, buddy?"

"I'm not your buddy," Tony's fists were clenched and out of the corner of his eye he saw Liz quickly finish up with the person she was with as start to make her way over, "and I told you, leave my friend alone."

"Well let's see what your friend has to say about that." The man dropped a few bills on the bar top and Tony waited for him to take even a step towards their table. "Oh, and by the way," the man took half a step closer to Tony, as if to poke a lion in it's cage, "my name is Justin, in case you hear her yelling it later from the back of my car."

That did it.

With a tightly clenched fist and half an arm cocked back Tony took a swing. His fist connected with the man's jaw, knocking him so hard his torso looked like it was going to spin on his waist. The man double over, clenching his jaw. Tony had to use every ounce of self-restraint to stop himself from hitting the man again. Since he didn't even try to stand up Tony didn't want to make matters worse than they had to be. The man took a few steps back, hands up in the air in defeat, obviously too rocked by the first hit to even attempt anything to deserve another. Clearing his throat, oblivious to the stares from all in the bar, Tony calming pulled out his wallet and dropped some more cash on the bar.

"I think we're ready for a second round over there, Liz." The bartender eyed them both skeptically, afraid that if she stepped away they would start again. In the end she gave him a small nod and shot a warning stare to the other man. Tony looked back at the table, finally realizing that his friends were staring. He locked eyes with Ziva, her face riddled with questions. His features softened as he looked at her. Without breaking eye contact he stepped close to the man, and said quietly in his ear, "Oh, by the way, come near her or even look at her disrespectfully and you'll have more than a busted jaw."

The man continued to rub his jaw and wordlessly backed away to a back portion of the bar. Tony turned and grabbed some of the beers of the bar top, Liz following with the rest.

"So what'd I miss?" he asked with a smile as he walked up to the table. Liz rolled her eyes at his nonchalant attitude after that scene.

"Tony- what the- what just happened?" Tim gaped, the others either trying to read Tony's expression or looking around for where the other man had gone. "Did you know him?"

"Nope," Tony sipped his beer as he sat to Ziva's right, "never seen him before."

"Then why did you hit him?" Abby chimed in, "you said this was a nice place! Well, not nice as in fancy, but nice as in stupid things like that wouldn't happen!"

"I'm sure he has a good reason," Jimmy defended, "right, Tony?" The question was tacked on with some uncertainty.

"There is no reason to hit a man for no reason in a bar and walk away!"

"Abby, breathe," Tony shook his head. "Look, it was nothing. It's over, it's fine and I don't think we'll have to worry about him." The group looked at him skeptically and started their second round of drinks, lulling back into conversation. Ziva was still staring at her partner when she noticed he was rubbing his hand.

"Did you hurt yourself, Tony?" Obviously she knew the answer as he tried to nurse his knuckles. "I thought you would know how to throw a punch by now." She reached over and pulled his hand to her lap, almost at table level, as she inspected it.

"Clenched my fists too hard," I guess, trying to play it off.

"What did he do to you that made you so angry?" She rubbed his knuckles gently, checking for any breaks. "Or was it a man thing where you just had to find something to fight over."

"I don't fight over things, that's just dumb," Ziva looked at his skeptically.

"But…"

"I fight for, not over."

"There is no difference," she replied, shaking her head.

"Hey now," he cocked his head to the side, "who is better at the English language here." She rolled her eyes at him. They both glanced over at the rest of the table, noting they were in their own conversation as well. It was then that Tony looked down and realized she was still holding his hand gently. She looked down as well and quickly pulled her hand away, gently clearing her throat and placing her hands on the table, resting around her glass. "Besides," he lowered his voice so only she could hear him, "you may not understand it yet, but I definitely know what's worth fighting for."

She looked at him with softened eyes, realizing why he had thrown that punch. She smiled at him softly but had nothing to say in return. Instead she placed her hand on his knee with a gentle squeeze and a tilt of the head.

That was all he needed. He knew that it was worth a sore or swollen hand and then some.

They both joined back into the larger conversation, enjoying the comfort of everyone's company and the safety of their own little world. And all the while, for the rest of the night, Ziva's hand stayed right where it was.


End file.
